Love Me Back To Life
by Thegirlbehindthewords
Summary: This is how I think they "Grow Together" at the end of Mockingjay. It will entail all of the characters that are still alive at some point. This is my first attempt and this is only one of many chapters (hopefully). I have my own idea on where this story is headed, but if there is something you think/want to be written about, feel free to comment and tell me!
1. Chapter 1

**Love me back to life.**

I watch her two blonde braids bounce against her back. Her smile glows as she skips through the green patch of grass, chasing after that same scraggly cat. Her happiness radiates, and I can feel my own smile forming in my face. Something I hadn't felt in too long of a time.

She could live here forever in my dreams.

Untouched by the horrors still left in this world.

But as quickly as happiness had touched my soiled skin, dark clouds form above. Bombs rain down, and I scream her name. The terrorized screams from her fill my ears as I reach for her. But as I reach she moves farther and farther out of my grasp. I run in the direction of her cries, suddenly swarmed by smoke. As I see the last of her blonde hair slip away, a see another blonde head run for her. I try to shout his name, but nothing comes out. I try to run again, but something's pulling me back. The arm of a dark haired boy that used to be my best friend. I try to yank my arm free as bombs burst around us, yet he holds on and ignores my pleas. I remember he's not a friend, but a traitor to me now. I yell at him to save her, but he remains still, untouched by my words.

The sound of my sisters screams are suddenly drowned out by the sound of someone else's. Someone else who I wished to save time and time before. I shout to him again, finally breaking out of Gales hands. Running and trashing through the smoke, I only hear him whimper now. And Almost at once the sound stops. I hear the sound of the same, seemingly indestructible cat scowling and scratching.

I wake up in a sweat, gasping for air. I grasp the sheets for something to hold, but I find nothing. All of my pillows have kicked to the floor, along with my blanket.

The pale moonlight is fading as I sit up, trying to collect my bearings.

Gale was a thought from time to time. Usually thoughts of him were pleasant and distant, bringing a strange sense of relief and longing at the same time.

Prim was always a regular visitor in my dreams. The same as everyone I had killed. Smiling then dying. Opening the wounds that had not yet healed.

But he only appears occasionally. Or so he was.

It had been a few days since I had seen Peeta for the first time back here. And already he's infecting my nightmares. The same nightmares he used to calm.

Immediately the guilt pains me. The same guilt that floods my mind every time I think of him. Here he was planting flowers for my dead sister and bearing bread for me after everything he's been through. He deserved the world. Yet I never even told him how I truly felt. I was always too stubborn, to blocked up to the point I couldn't even give him that. And that is only the beginning of what he deserves.

I sigh as I drag myself out of bed. Sae usually arrives as soon as the sun is up. I figure I'll surprise her for once. It's the least I can do.

I brush my hair, and wait at the table. As usual, Sae walks in with a smile within minutes. Followed shortly by Peeta.

I smile slightly to them both, nodding my head. His blue eyes lock on mine, the same ones I've seen time and time before. This is the first time I truly look into them in a month. But I feel so distant from them now. They are not confused, but lost. The sight of them makes me want to run back upstairs and curl up into a ball. Make myself forget him and everything that's happened. Make myself forget the torture he's been trough because of me.

As my heart breaks at the sight of them, I make a choice.  
I will get better. I've still kept my promise, the same one I made with Haymitch. I will get better. Not for me, but for him.

**The boy with the bread.**


	2. Chapter 2

Hours later I am fully dressed, walking along the familiar path to the woods. The few times I've been here since the war, I usually lose myself in thought. Memories of my father and Gale fill my mind. Both hunters, sharing my skill.

But today is different.

As I scour the trees for prey, I keep seeing the same pair of blue eyes in every animal. The same lost and distant look. Needless to say, I did not bring back any game.

I start my walk back to town; I take in the green leaves growing in from the dead scorched ones. The woods have even changed since the war. I still have to remind myself that nothing is the same, and will stay that way.

Since Peeta's return, my energy level has picked up slightly. And I mean slightly. Just enough for a trip to the woods for an hour in the late afternoon. These trips were also as result of Sae's constant pushing for me to get out of my house.

However, Peeta's return has marked a less hopeful endeavor. I have avoided him besides our breakfast with Sae, but heard from her in the evenings about his flashbacks. Yes, he had been released from the capitol, but he was far from better. The news of his suffering was one of the involuntary thoughts that I presume make me want to heal him. He's not hopeless, just broken. He was still alive, which is more than I ever expected after everything that's happened. And honestly, I am not sure why I suddenly want to help him. Maybe it's guilt, or the stubborn girl who still lives inside this broken body. Still determined she will show him that her wishes to protect him are as real as his to protect her.

I walk into Victor's Village, hearing Haymitch's geese squawk loudly. I still wonder who in their right mind left Haymitch in charge of caring for living creatures. He can barely stay sober enough to take care of himself.

I turn to head up to my house, but stop myself when I hear a clang of pots. My head tells me to ignore it, but my chest is rising in panic. Without another thought, I take off towards Peeta's house. I don't even bother to knock or initiate my presence before I walk in. When I finally locate him, he's in his kitchen, picking up the metal pans that cover the floor. My head begins to throb the moment I see the knife on the floor beside him and panic fills me.

"I had a flashback." He says without looking up. It's amazing how two trips to the Hunger Games and a war has taught us to sense the other.

I see a drop of red liquid fall onto the floor as he stands up. A cut in his already scarred skin leaks blood on his cheek. Without thinking, I grab a cloth from the sink and clean off the cut.

"How bad was it?" I ask, realizing this is the first time I have touched him since before the bombings. Quickly, I pull back, leaving him to caress his own cheek.

"Not too bad, I mean I've definitely has worse." He sighs with a smile. "At least I didn't strangle anyone." The fact he can laugh about such a sickening moment makes me feel even worse.

"What causes them?" I put the few pots on the counter and resume my previous stance near the front door.

"It depends, anything from bees to knifes. Animals can have an effect on me too." He tosses theknife that I assume cut his cheek into the sink.

The thought of his flashbacks makes me uneasy. I have never had to encounter one on my own. What if he tries to kill me? What if he kills himself? His house is full of knifes and objects he could kill someone with. He's much too strong for his own good as well. These unpleasant thoughts fill my mind as he continues the list of things that can trigger such events.

I can't tell how much time has passed since he's stopped talking and just been staring at me. Without another word, I find myself leaving his house and walking to mine. My mind it still spinning.

What do I do when I am near him and he goes mutt? I don't think any of us know what to do for him back in 12. A flashback is something even Dr. Aurelius can help with when he's thousands of miles away.

For some reason these thoughts hadn't occurred to me when I first re-committed myself to helping him. No one in 13 ever told me much information about his condition. They were too afraid it'd mess up their precious Mockingjay's head. This thought only fuels the fire of confusion and panic in my mind.

How can I help him if he can't even protect himself?

The thoughts eat me alive as the pain in my head grows stronger. I attempt to make it up the stairs, but the black abbess absorbs me before my foot even hits the first step.


End file.
